


Home

by jojosiewa



Series: MCYT Short Stories [25]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), The Crafting Dead
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bravery, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Home, Zombie Apocalypse, a child in the apocalypse what will he do, apocalypse but earlier, brief desc of stitching up wound, its vague, uhh fuckin, walkers being shot pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25646077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojosiewa/pseuds/jojosiewa
Summary: Gray and Nick find their home.
Relationships: Gray & Nick (Crafting Dead)
Series: MCYT Short Stories [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1192948
Kudos: 11





	Home

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck!” Gray spat, stumbling into the house and slamming the door shut just as a decaying hand reached out for him. He pressed himself against the door, and after a moment’s consideration, gripped the handle so that it wouldn’t turn. The banging coming from the other side of the door was weak, showing no sign of true force to it, the infection having long since taken its toll on the muscles. Gray cautiously backed away from the door, and grabbed a nearby chair, shoving it under the doorknob, just in case. He nodded, satisfied, and turned towards the house’s interior.

It was a messy, two story home, with children’s toys strewn across the floor, a makeshift minefield of unwanted noise and stubbed toes. Looking at them made Gray’s stomach twist, and he placed his hand over it for a moment, staring at the toys and sighing, grieving for a moment for the lost children. Then, the thirst came back to him, snapping him out of his daze. He needed water. He took careful steps over to the kitchen, and found a few water bottles tucked in the back of a cabinet. He took one out and chugged half of it before closing it and leaning against the fridge, adrenaline wearing off and pain settling in. He checked himself for injuries.

He had a few bleeding barbed wire cuts on his arms he’d gotten after unwittingly falling into a pile of the stuff. It was bound to happen sooner or later; it was littered everywhere in Seaport, and exhaustion made Gray clumsy. He sighed and took his bag and gun off his back, then his torn military jacket, looking at his arms and hissing at the sting.

“Okay,” he said, and he took a deep breath, gazing around at the house. “First aid kit, first aid kit, first—”

He froze when he saw the kid standing at the entrance to the kitchen. He looked to be around five or six, from what Gray could tell, with a mess of curly brown hair, wide green eyes, and a bright red scarf that reached down to the floor behind him. He seemed just as frozen in place as Gray was, and after a moment of stunned eye contact, the child darted back upstairs. Gray gasped and reached an arm out on instinct.

“Wait—” He moved his arm back and cursed, looking over his bloody wounds once more. He must have looked terrifying to a kid that young, invading what must have been his home. He let out a breath and took a jerky step closer to the stairs, still shocked at the sight. He didn’t think there were any other survivors on the island, he’d been there for nearly a month with no signs of other survivors. “He— Hey, uh, kid?” He tried to soften his voice as much as he could, walking slowly up to the bottom of the stairs.

He peered up at the top of the steps just as the child reappeared. They flinched at each other, and Gray held up his arms, backing off and nearly tripping over a toy train. He clamped a hand over his mouth and shuffled back a bit more. The child began to step cautiously down the stairs, holding the railing in one hand and holding a first aid kit in the other. Gray’s posture relaxed a bit as the kid made it to the bottom of the steps and held out the first aid kit as far as he could. Gray pointed to himself, afraid to speak, and the child nodded.

Gray shuffled forward and took the large first aid kit as gently as he was able. “Thank you,” he whispered, glancing around. He bit his lip hard and wondered what the hell to do. He could just leave, but then he’d be leaving a five year old alone in a world not meant for children, and the thought made him sick. “Um— bathroom?” he said instead, figuring he should stick around.

The child nodded, slowly at first, then a bit more enthusiastically. He pointed down a hallway and walked towards it, pausing at the opening to glance back and stare at Gray. Gray nodded and followed as the child led him to a small bathroom. Gray set the first aid kit on the counter and opened it, nodding to himself. He checked in the cabinet for peroxide, and found some. In the corner of his eye, the child scrunched up his nose at the sight of the brown bottle, and Gray glanced over, smiling in the slightest.

“I’m not sure you wanna watch this, um— what’s your name?” Gray asked, and the child tilted his head.

“Nick,” he said, voice almost trembling. Gray uncapped the bottle of peroxide and winced at his tone.

“Nick, do you want to um, go... uh, play with your toys, for a minute, or something?” Gray scoffed. He wasn’t sure what the hell to do regarding Nick, but he knew at least that he didn’t want a five year old watching him stitch up wounds. “I’m gonna take care of— of these— I won't hurt you, or anything, I wouldn’t do that.”

Nick stared at him for a moment before turning around, back to Gray. “I won’t turn around,” Nick said, and Gray sighed.

“Okay.” Gray held his arm over the sink and poured some peroxide over it, wincing and forcing out, “What happened,” before he could think about it. Nick crossed his arms over his chest, quiet. Gray nodded and sighed. “Okay, I can talk. I’m gonna talk, okay?”

There was a quiet hum from Nick, and Gray took that as an acknowledgement as he began to get to work on the minimal stitches he needed. “My name’s Gray, I work— worked, for the Marines. I was on patrol here once things... happened. No one came for me, and I was kind of just on my own on this island before I knew it, I mean— until now. It’s not too bad here, the— uh, there aren’t too many sick people,” he rambled, distracting himself as much as he could from the pain.

“My dad got sick,” Nick mumbled, just as Gray cut the string. “He left and told me never to leave the house.” Another pause, and a sniffle. “I’m hungry.”

Gray’s eyes widened, and he glanced over at Nick, realizing how skinny he was. “I have granola bars, they’re in my bag, in the kitchen. You can take them all,” he said, wrapping his arm in gauze. Nick looked over his shoulder, eyes wide. “I’ve eaten food today, I’ll be alright. Take them.”

Nick glanced from Gray to the hall, then back to Gray, who nodded. Nick stepped towards the hall, and then walked out towards the kitchen. Gray let out a tense breath and went back to his wounds. He was low on food, now, and would need to make a run for some more; some for Nick, too, because he was not going to be letting a five year old starve on his watch, either.

Once he was done he made his way back to the kitchen, just as Nick began to reach for the large gun he’d set on the counter. His stomach dropped. “NO—” Gray ran over and picked the gun up, taking several frantic steps away from Nick, who once again froze in terror. Gray quickly put the gun on his back and held up his hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, you can’t touch that,” he stuttered, and Nick’s eyes began to water. Gray stifled a curse and finally figured he should kneel to Nick’s level. He did so, holding out a hand to him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Nick sniffled and wiped his eyes. “I put the food in the pantry,” he whimpered, and Gray nodded, glancing back at his now open bag. “Except for this one.” Nick reached up to the counter and held out two pieces of a granola bar. He held it out to Gray. “You should have some too.”

Gray scoffed and reached out, and Nick was the one who stepped closer to hand the crumbling bar to him. “Thanks,” Gray breathed, and Nick took a small bite of his half. Gray looked down at his own half, and took a deep breath. “Hey, Nick,” he sighed, and Nick raised his head. Gray let out a hum, and he squeezed his eyes shut before asking, “What if I stuck around? I wouldn’t feel good leaving you here, alone. I know I’m a stranger to you, but it’s a tough world, and I think—”

“You need a friend?” Nick asked, catching Gray off guard.

“I—”

“I can let you stay here, um— you can sleep in my dad’s room, he has the biggest bed, and— and you’re an adult, so you need the bigger bed,” Nick said, pointing back towards the stairs. Gray stared for a moment, mouth hung open. “Gray? Are you okay—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Gray said, shaking his head and blinking. “I would love to be a guest in your home. And a friend, too. Thank you.”

“Okay!” Nick cracked a smile, and Gray couldn’t help but smile back. “Eat your granola bar!”

“Right— right.”

——

Gray got some basic barricades set up by sunset, with further plans sketched out in a small journal with a cat with glasses on the front cover, provided by Nick. The child watched from a crack in the boarded up windows, and even came outside once, to Gray’s horror, to give Gray another water bottle.

They sat at the dining table and had more granola bars for dinner. Nick didn’t seem to like them very much, and Gray took note for his next supply run.

After they finished eating, Nick showed Gray around the house. There wasn’t much to it, but Gray looked into each room with wonder; it made Nick smile. His fear of Gray seemed to be overshadowed by the excitement of finally having someone to talk to again.

“This is my room,” Nick said, and he held Gray’s hand to pull him inside. It was nearly covered in stuffed animals, and Nick ran up to his bed and dug through a huge pile, pulling out a gray wolf. “This one reminds me of you, you can take him,” Nick said, handing the wolf to Gray. “Um, I have a My Little Pony poster up there, and— oh look, I drew these!” He pointed at the wall and pulled Gray over to it, showing him a few cute drawings that had been taped up on the wall.

“Those are really nice,” Gray said, tilting his head and looking at the drawings as if he were in an art exhibit. Nick beamed.

“Thank you! Come on, come on!” Nick pulled Gray to another room, passing a room that Gray only caught a quick glimpse of. “This is my dad’s room. You can sleep here,” Nick said, holding both arms out wide, showing off the room.

“Thanks, Nick,” Gray said, looking around. It was plain, aside from a few framed pictures and artwork on the walls.

“Tell me if you need anything,” Nick urged, squeezing Gray’s hand tighter for a moment. Gray chuckled and nodded at that. “Okay, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, kid.” Gray saluted, and Nick giggled at him, running off to his room. Gray turned back to the bed and sat down on it, looking down at the stuffed wolf in his hands. “Holy fuck, he’s gotta be six at most, he’s— Christ, I’m exhausted.”

He laid down and brought his knees up, staring at a picture on the nightstand of a kind looking man, Nick, and what looked to be a twin sister. Gray frowned. He put the pieces together about what happened to the father; there was no car in the garage, and Nick said he was sick, after all. It was clear he’d gotten bit and tried to put as much distance between himself and Nick as possible. But Nick hadn’t mentioned a sister.

Gray shook his head and refused to think about it. He’d seen infected kids. He had to focus on the living one down the hall. He set the wolf next to his head and shut his eyes, trying to force what sleep he could get.

——

Early the next morning, Gray, anxious to get Nick more food and water, had left a note on Nick’s nightstand and sprinted towards the commercial part of town. He paused, aimed, and shot at a walker that was stuck in the door of a store, wincing as he stepped over it to enter.

“Kids like, kids like cereal,” Gray mumbled to himself, grabbing the last box of a sugary cereal from the shelf. He took the bag out of the box and shoved it in his backpack as he walked over to the canned goods. “Beans, spaghetti? Peaches, corn,” he listed as he passed them. He’d never been so concerned about which foods he grabbed, but Nick needed a decent diet. Gray grabbed whatever had meat and plants and stuffed his backpack as full as he could. He hummed, took some out, and made room for some cans of peaches. It could last them a while, especially if Gray rationed his meals.

He put the now-heavy backpack back on and grunted, walking back out of the store. He got ready to run back, until a clothing store caught his eye. He glanced over, and made his way over to it, squinting through the glass. He spotted a jacket that would be good for the coming winter, and stepped inside to grab it, dropping his stuff and looking for his size.

——

“Nick, I’m back, I got you a heavier jacket, it’s gonna get cold,” Gray called as he walked in, dropping a bundle of clothes on the floor and taking his backpack off. “And some stuff for me, my old jacket was all torn.” He massaged sore shoulders and stepped over the pile, greeted with silence. He looked around and frowned. “Nick?”

A pit formed in his stomach, and he stumbled upstairs. He couldn’t have lost the kid after less than 24 hours, he wasn’t that bad a guardian, was he?

He ran into Nick’s room, and put a hand on his chest. Nick was still asleep. Gray sighed in relief and walked over, taking the note he’d left and shoving it in his pocket. Then, he got another blanket, and draped it over Nick. It was a cold morning, after all.

“You sleep in, got it,” Gray whispered, leaving the room and closing the door softly behind him. For a moment he wondered how late Nick stayed up at night.

——

“Okay, be careful around the wall, I don’t want you getting pricked by splinters or barbed wire,” Gray said as he led Nick into the walled up backyard. It had been a few days, and Gray had just finished barricading the perimeter of the house with debris and barbed wire. Nick seemed healthier, even just after a few days with three meals, but he was sad and sulky, as if Gray was really making reality set in.

Nick hummed at Gray and kicked at the grass. Gray sighed and knelt down next to Nick. “I know it’s not pretty, I know it’s different, but we have to stay safe.”

“Mhm.” Nick’s eyes began to water, and Gray gasped, placing a gentle hand on Nick’s back.

“Hey, we’re gonna be okay,” Gray said, rubbing Nick’s back soothingly. Nick covered his face with his scarf and leaned on Gray, wrapping shaky arms around his neck. Gray sat in shock for a moment before hugging Nick back. Gray never considered himself good at comforting people, and his eyes widened even more as Nick let out a sob. “Okay, how about we go inside—”

Gray tried to stand, but Nick didn’t budge, his hold surprisingly strong. Nick was fully sobbing now, and Gray winced at each cry, offering back pats and gentle hushes. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry you have to go through this, I just— let me help, let me help.”

He carefully lifted Nick and stood up, grunting at sore muscles. He held Nick close and brought him back inside, up the stairs, and into his room. “Come on, let go, I’m right here. Lay down,” Gray whispered, setting Nick down on his bed and sitting next to him. Nick turned and hid his face in his pillow.

“I— I miss my dad,” Nick said between sobs, and Gray’s heart sunk. “And my sister— and my— and my momma, I miss my mom.”

“Oh god,” Gray sighed, rubbing Nick’s back. “I do too. I miss my family too.”

Nick turned his head and looked at Gray, quieting slightly. Gray raised his eyebrows.

He kept talking. “My— my mom and dad, I miss them, they live in Maine, and— and I have a brother too, he runs a hunting shop up there, he was always more personable than me, I mean, he gets along with everyone.”

“My— my sister is good at making friends,” Nick mumbled, still sniffling. He turned to face Gray, legs curled close to his body. “She’s not afraid of anything.”

“She sounds really cool,” Gray said, smiling down at Nick. “Very impressive. Even I’m afraid sometimes.”

Nick giggled. “No, you’re not,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You go outside and come back all the time like— like nothing’s wrong. I’m afraid to go outside. You’re brave.”

“You can’t be brave if you’re not scared. Being brave means you overcome your fear. I think you’re brave,” Gray explained, poking the tip of Nick’s nose. Nick laughed again and covered his face with his hands. “I think you’re really brave for living in a world like this and standing tall.”

“But I just cried a whole bunch, so you gotta take that back,” Nick huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

“Brave people cry, everyone cries. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.” Gray ruffled Nick’s hair, and Nick laughed and grabbed Gray’s hand with both of his. “Nick, you’re doing the best you can, and that’s enough, alright?”

Nick nodded and messed with Gray’s hand. “Um, Gray? Thank you for making the barri— the— the wall. To keep us safe,” he said. Gray nodded in acknowledgement.

“Do you want a juice box, kid?”

“Yeah!”

——

Late that night, Gray awoke from a halfway decent sleep. He’d been sleeping better lately, the comfort of the bed and secure home letting him rest. Still, waking up in the middle of the night wasn’t unusual, and he had started to get out of bed when he noticed Nick hovering in the doorway, draped in a long blanket with a stuffed lynx in his hands. Gray swung his legs off the bed.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, and Nick rubbed his tired green eyes.

“I haven’t been able to sleep,” Nick admitted. Gray frowned as Nick walked up to him, dragging the blanket behind him. “Noises from outside always scare me.”

“Aw, Nick, this whole time?” Gray asked, and Nick nodded. “You know I’m just down the hall right? You can wake me up, I don’t mind.”

“You— you were sleeping very soundly,” Nick said, messing with the end of his scarf.

Gray sighed and smiled. “You don’t have to worry about me, okay? How can I help?” he whispered, and Nick looked down, embarrassed to answer. “Nick, please, you gotta sleep.”

“It’s scary alone,” Nick whined, and Gray understood.

“I can sleep on the floor, in your room,” Gray suggested, and Nick’s eyes widened.

“You would do that?” Nick stared up at him in awe, as if expecting Gray to have denied and sent him back to bed, afraid and alone.

“Of course.” Gray got up from the comfortable bed, despite the protests of every bone in his body, and tucked a blanket under his arm. Nick reached up and held Gray’s hand, and they walked over to Nick’s bedroom. Gray threw his blanket down, and Nick opened his closet, pulling out a few blankets coated in dust. Gray took them and set up a place to sleep on Nick’s carpet.

“Alright, that’ll do. Now you know I’m right here alright?” Gray lifted Nick onto his bed and ruffled his hair. Nick giggled and nodded. “Okay. Try your best to sleep,” Gray said, laying down and throwing a blanket over himself. It was quiet for a while as Gray became reacquainted with sleeping on the floor.

“Gray,” Nick whispered, and Gray opened his eyes.

“Yeah?” he hummed, turning to face Nick’s bed. Nick’s head came into view.

“Thanks.”

Gray smiled. “No problem, kiddo. Now lay down, close your eyes, you’re safe,” he reassured. Nick disappeared from Gray’s view, and Gray rolled back over, shutting his eyes again.

——

“Nick— do you want a haircut or not,” Gray laughed, and Nick suppressed giggles as he once again moved his head away from the scissors Gray was holding. “Nick, your hair’s in your eyes. Be still as a statue, dull scissors are still scissors.”

Nick finally obliged, shutting his eyes tight as Gray took a few strands of hair between his fingers and started to cut.

It had been over two months. Winter was setting in, and walkers seemed to be slowing down; Gray could get to farther, un-looted parts of the island without taking as many risks. It was enough for them to last in Seaport for the rest of the winter and some time after, though the idea of there being finite resources at all made Gray nervous as time passed. Nick loved the house, understandably, and leaving would surely be an issue for him. It was his home, their home.

Gray didn’t want to leave either.

“What’s for dinner?” Nick asked, and Gray perked up, smiling as he moved his chair and evened out the back of Nick’s new haircut.

“Well, you wouldn’t believe this, I found canned spaghettios on my run yesterday.” Nick’s eyes widened, and Gray laughed. “I’ll warm it up under a fire, and you can have some pasta,” Gray said, running fingers through Nick’s hair to shake out loose hairs. He moved back to face Nick and nodded at his work. “There we go.”

“You really found some?” Nick asked, grabbing and squeezing Gray’s hands. Gray nodded, and Nick grinned and kicked his legs. “Yay! I missed the pasta.”

“I know you did, we ran out of it quick, didn’t we? Hey, I’ll stick to eating the stuff you don’t like as much so your pasta can last longer this time. I’m not picky,” Gray said, and Nick gasped.

“But we gotta be pasta buddies,” Nick whined. Gray chuckled and stood up, setting the scissors on the kitchen counter and grabbing a broom. Nick got up and tugged at Gray’s sleeve. “Gray, please?”

Gray looked down at Nick, who pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

——

Two cans of spaghettios sat on a metal stand over a fire in their backyard. Gray sat and stared at it, pulling up the hood of his jacket and shuddering against the cold winter air.

He lifted his head at the sound of the sliding glass door opening. He watched as Nick waddled out in a comically thick jacket and UGGs and sat next to Gray. “You looked lonely,” Nick mumbled, leaning on Gray. Gray sighed and wrapped an arm around Nick.

“Just reminds me of campfires. Roasting marshmallows, and all that.” Nick perked up at the mention of marshmallows, and Gray chuckled. “You ate all the ones we had, remember? I couldn’t find any more, I’m sorry.”

“Hmph, it’s okay.” Nick sighed dramatically and hid part of his face in Gray’s shoulder. “Roasting them kinda scares me anyway.”

“Cuz of the fire, huh.”

“Yeah.” Nick shivered, and Gray rubbed his arm.

“You should get inside, the pasta will be warm enough soon,” Gray urged. Nick shook his head.

“I don’t like when I’m alone in there when it gets dark,” Nick said, and Gray nodded.

“I wish things were easier for you,” Gray whispered, grabbing a stick and poking at the fire. “I wish none of this would’ve happened, and you had your sister and your dad, and your mom. You’re only six.”

“Five,” Nick corrected, and Gray glanced over at him. Nick held up five fingers. “How old are you?”

“Twenty nine,” Gray breathed. Nick giggled.

“You’re kinda old.”

“Hey,” Gray sighed, his smile not lasting long. He leaned forward and grabbed the cans of spaghettios with gloved hands, setting them aside. He moved the metal stand and poured some water on the fire. “Let’s go inside and crack these open, huh?”

Nick smiled and nodded, standing up quickly and running inside. Gray chuckled and followed, trying his best to leave sad thoughts outside in the cold.

——

“You seem sad,” Nick said. Gray pulled the covers over Nick and ruffled his hair.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Just deep in thought,” Gray reassured, sitting on the mattress he’d brought from Nick’s sister’s room a while back. “We’ve been on this island for a while now.”

“It’s home,” Nick said, and Gray nodded.

“Right. Home.”

——

Gray didn’t know what brought him to the shipyard the next day. He’d been there plenty of times, had emptied the boats of all supplies and nearly cleared the docks. But after his supply run was over, it seemed as if his feet walked him there of their own volition. He walked over to one of the huge ships and walked along its perimeter until he reached the ladder to climb on.

He stepped back, and shook his head. “This is stupid, I, we’ll be fine. I can do this another time, I have to go back,” he told himself, facing away from the boat. “I am going back, I’m not going to worry about this right now.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Just a look. Just to see if the thing works.” He turned around, and backed up. “A quick look.”

He ran towards the ladder and jumped the gap, grabbing hold of the ladder and wincing as his body collided with the ship. He grunted and pulled himself up and onto the vessel. He dusted himself off and sighed, glancing towards the front of the ship. He’d only taken one step forward when a walker grabbed the back of his shirt. Gray gasped and spun around, taking his gun off his belt and firing it into the walker’s head. He pushed it off the boat and backed away.

“Distracted,” Gray cursed, hitting himself. He walked towards the control deck, killing stray walkers as he went, making sure they fell off the boat. Then, he made it to the control deck, and took a look at the boat controls. The fuel tank was nearly full, and there was an autopilot button, which Gray touched gently. Nothing seemed broken, and when Gray briefly turned the boat on, lights came to life and a pre-planned course to Greenfield popped up on a screen by the steering wheel. “Greenfield,” Gray muttered, going back to turn the boat off again.

He flicked a switch with the back of his hand, and suddenly the radio sputtered and released a deafening bout of white noise. Gray flinched and turned the dial, intending to turn down the volume, but switching the channel.

“—currently waiting on command to make a call, we are on standby—”

Gray gasped and turned the dial back, recognizing the monotone voice. The boat’s radio was picking up on a military station.

“I repeat: we are currently waiting on command to make a call, we are on standby, we are unaware of what time detonation will occur—”

Gray held down a button and shouted, “Langley! Langley this is Gray, permission to know what the fuck you’re talking about here?”

The voice on the other line stuttered for a moment. “Gr— Gray? Gray we were under the impression that you were—”

“My radio broke months ago, beyond repair, at Seaport, wait— what detonation are you talking about?” Gray asked, hands beginning to shake. He glanced out the window and saw a few walkers who had heard the commotion approaching him.

“Sir— you’re in Seaport? Get the hell out of there, they’re gonna napalm it!”

Gray felt his entire world crumbling around him, leaning on the control panel for support. “Napalm— when.”

“We’re not sure yet, but they don’t seem concerned about survivors, they just want the walkers gone, sir. I doubt I can pull strings for you. We’re expecting the order any hour now!”

“Christ— no— I have— there’s someone with me, I need to go!” Gray lifted his finger from the button and sprinted towards the door, hearing a faint “godspeed” as he shot his way through all the walkers on the boat.

——

“NICK!” Gray nearly crashed through the barricade, throwing open the door to the house. “Nick— Nick we need to go!” he yelled, wrestling his backpack off and opening the cupboard. He took an arm and dragged all the canned goods he could fit into his bag.

Nick ran down the stairs and up to Gray, pulling at his arm. “What are you doing?” he asked, voice frantic. Gray knelt down and put his hands on Nick’s shoulders. Nick flinched, noticing that Gray’s hands were trembling.

“We have to go, this house isn’t safe anymore, I found a radio— on a boat on the shipyard, it turned on, and some people are going to fly overhead and—” Gray hesitated, placing a hand on his head. “They’ll— fuck, we just have to go, and now. You should get a bag packed—”

“No!” Nick shouted, stepping back from Gray. “I’m not leaving!”

Gray sat in stunned silence for a moment, heart pounding against his chest.

“Put it back! We’re not leaving!” Nick yelled, reaching for Gray’s back. Gray snatched the bag back and stood up.

“Yes, we are,” Gray said, not completely aware of his voice rising slowly in volume. “If we stay, we will die!”

“NO!” Nick stomped his foot. “I’m not leaving! Never! You said this was home! We can’t leave our home!”

“Nick, you’re not listening,” Gray said, trying to control his voice and shaking hands. He wasn’t usually like this. Neither of them were. “They’re bombing the place, I’m not letting you— die—”

Nick let out a sob. Gray gasped and tried to hold out a hand, but Nick stumbled back, falling on the kitchen floor and crying. “I’m not going I’m not going I’m NOT!” he yelled, and Gray tried to step towards him, reaching out again. Nick screamed, and Gray flinched, stumbling back and covering his ears. He faced away from Nick.

“Nick! Please!” Gray begged, eyes hot. He leaned on a windowsill and glanced outside, checking the sky for planes. Nick was still sobbing, and Gray was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. “Nick...”

Gray placed a hand on his chest. Nick stomped his feet and gripped his hair. “This isn’t happening this isn’t—” Gray shut his eyes, a few stray tears escaping. “I don’t wanna go either—”

His eyes shot open. “I don’t wanna— I can’t— fuck, okay, okay, I got it.” He turned around and faced Nick. “I don’t want to go either! It sucks, and I don’t want to go either!”

Nick looked up at him for a moment, face terribly red. Gray got back to his knees and held out shaking arms. “I’m sorry I yelled, please— I did this all wrong, Nick, Nick I don’t want to leave but if we don’t leave— worse things will happen and I can’t lose you, you’re the only family I have left and I refuse to lose you,” he said, and Nick sobbed again, crawling over to Gray’s arms. Gray held him close and shushed him, running fingers through his hair. “I know it’s hard. I know you’ve lived here for a long time and it’s scary to move, but we have to. Home can be you and me, right? You and me.”

Nick hugged Gray tighter. “You and me,” Nick whispered. “Gray?”

“Yeah?” Gray bit his lip.

“I love you.”

Gray forced out a breathy laugh, wiping tears from his eyes. “I love you too, kid. I’m so sorry.”

They hugged for a few minutes, Gray calming himself down and letting Nick cry it out. Once he was able, Gray lifted Nick and carried him towards his room.

“My mom gave me this scarf, it’s how I remember her when she’s not here,” Nick said, voice still shaky. Gray felt the scarf under his hand. “Can I bring something from the house?”

“Yeah— yeah, bring whatever you can fit in your bag,” Gray said, setting Nick down on his bed. “I’m gonna get food and water packed, are you gonna be okay?”

Nick nodded, squeezing Gray’s hand. “Don’t forget your wolf,” Nick said, and Gray smiled.

“Of course.”

——

A stuffed wolf was packed tightly in a bag, surrounded on all sides by canned foods and water bottles. Gray put the heavy bag on his shoulders and sighed. “Nick,” he called, glancing up the stairs. Nick came down with a small backpack stuffed full of what Gray could only assume were stuffed animals and pictures. “We have to go now.”

“Mhm.” Nick leaned on the wall of the house for a moment, pressing a hand to it. Gray walked over and did the same, his other hand on Nick’s back. “I’m scared,” Nick said, and Gray nodded.

“Me too. But we gotta be brave, right?” Gray ruffled Nick’s hair. “We’ll be okay, wherever we end up, we got each other.”

Nick smiled up at Gray. “Yeah,” Nick said, stepping away from the wall. “Goodbye house. Thank you.”

“Thanks,” Gray mumbled, patting the wall. Then, he turned to Nick. “I’m gonna run to the shipyard, I’m gonna carry you, I want you to hold on tight and keep your eyes shut. Don’t let go, don’t open your eyes.”

Nick nodded, and Gray lifted him, unsteady for a moment as he made sure he knew his center of gravity. Nick wrapped tight arms around his neck. “Okay,” Gray sighed. “Let’s go.”

Gray walked out of the house, and Nick hid his face in Gray’s shoulder. Gray walked for a few moments, then sped up, making sure not to trip. Walkers growled, and Nick whined. Gray placed a reassuring hand on Nick’s head for a moment. He still didn’t see any planes, which was a good sign. “You got this, you’re doing good, just a few minutes,” Gray reassured, boots thumping hard against asphalt.

The run took six minutes, and they were the longest six minutes of Gray’s life. Nick was light enough, but the backpack dug into his shoulders and his still-panicked lungs protested the run. He nearly tripped dodging a walker, and Nick yelped, opening his eyes for a moment. He let out a brief scream at the walker behind them, and Gray cursed. “Gray I opened my eyes!”

“Close them, it’s okay, I see the shipyard,” Gray said, and Nick nodded. Gray finally made his way up to the boat ladder. “Shit— we have to jump. Get down for a sec, face the water.”

Gray put Nick down and took his heavy backpack off, hurling it onto the boat. He took Nick’s backpack and did the same, despite a quiet whine from Nick. “I don’t wanna jump,” Nick said, peering over the edge of the dock. Gray nodded and crouched.

“Piggyback ride. I’ll jump, you just have to make sure to hold on,” he said, and Nick winced. He climbed onto Gray’s back, holding on tight. “Alright. Don’t let go, whatever you do.”

“But I could choke you,” Nick said, and Gray shook his head.

“I’ll be fine.” Gray backed up. “We’ll be fine. Be brave.”

Nick braced himself, and Gray ran forward and jumped the gap, grabbing hold of the rail and wincing as Nick’s arms pressed against his throat. Nick was shaking, and Gray climbed the ladder quickly, sitting on the ground for a moment to let Nick off. He leaned forward and groaned, giving himself half a second of rest before getting back up and slinging his bag over one shoulder. Nick grabbed his own as well, and they walked to the control deck.

Gray collapsed in the captain’s chair, turning on the boat quickly. The predetermined course popped up again on the screen, and after a moment of figuring out which button did what, he got the boat to move forward. Nick stood next to him and watched in awe as Gray drove the boat away from Seaport. Nick looked back and watched their island home seemingly float away.

His eyes watered, and he turned back to Gray, who was fiddling with more buttons. He was still breathing heavily. Nick wiped his eyes and put a hand on his arm. “Gray, are you okay?” he asked, and Gray glanced at him and smiled.

“Yeah. We’re gonna follow this course to Greenfield, here.” Gray lifted Nick to sit on his knees. He pointed to the screen. “This is a course I have to follow, it’ll take us to Greenfield, there’s an autopilot button but it makes me a bit nervous. Once we get out a bit I’m going to drop anchor, so we can gather ourselves,” he explained, and Nick nodded. “We made it, kid.”

“Sure did,” Nick said, getting down and walking over to the backpacks. “But after Greenfield what’s gonna happen? Are we gonna live there?”

Gray frowned. “I’m not sure.”

Nick walked back and set Gray’s wolf on the dashboard. “There you go. Some support,” Nick said, and Gray scoffed.

“Thanks.”

——

“Okay, anchor dropped,” Gray sighed, stretching his arms. He glanced over at Nick, who was sitting in the other seat, slumped and tired. Gray chuckled and got up, grabbing Nick’s backpack. “It’s night, maybe we should spend the night out here, both get some rest. This boat might have barracks.”

Nick nodded and let Gray pick him up. Gray carried the tired boy across the boat, eventually reaching a room full of beds. He opened the door and set Nick down on the nearest bed. Nick rubbed his eyes and whined, reaching for his backpack. Gray handed it over.

Nick took out a small baby blanket and wrapped it around himself. Gray ruffled his hair. “Stay here for a second, I’m gonna call someone on the radio and I’ll be right back,” he said, and Nick laid down.

Gray jogged back to the control deck, pausing for a moment to look at the stars. He sighed and walked inside, flicking on the radio and leaning on the control panel. He held down the button and said, “This is Gray, U.S—” He hesitated. “Former, U.S. Marine, anyone copy?”

“Langley again! I copy. Glad you made it out, sir!” the familiar voice chimed. Gray smiled.

“We did. May I ask where you’re stationed? I’m not sure where to go from here,” Gray said.

“We’ve got an outpost in Greenfield, but we’re actually about to head out. CDC-bound.”

Gray raised his eyebrows. “CDC? They’re operational? Are they taking... civilians?”

“Yessir! They’re taking everyone. Quite a journey, though.”

“Right,” Gray sighed. “Thanks, good luck to you all.”

“Godspeed.”

Gray turned the radio off, and sighed. “CDC,” he mumbled to himself, standing up straight. “That’s in Atlanta. Georgia. We’re in Massa-fucking-chusetts.”

He grabbed two water bottles and made his way back to the barracks. Nick was still awake, and he smiled when he saw Gray come in. “Gray!”

“Hey kid. I might have a place for us to go.” Gray sat on the bed next to Nick and opened a water bottle for him. “Maybe. The CDC, where they work on cures. It’s all the way in Atlanta, though. That’s very far.”

“My mom went there!” Nick sat up. “And my sister— she went there before this all happened!”

“Oh, crap,” Gray breathed, covering his mouth. “Sorry. But— well, maybe they made it to the CDC. There we go, there’s a goal.”

Nick nodded and took a few big gulps of water. Gray followed suit.

“Um—” Nick gulped. “Well... maybe they’ll be there. You know.”

Gray nodded solemnly. “Right. We’ll get there, though. We will,” he said, and Nick nodded, laying back down. “We should both rest.”

“Gray, can I not be brave for a second, and can you sleep right next to me? It’s cold.” Nick asked, and Gray chuckled.

“Sure. Scoot over.”

They both laid down, and Gray threw an arm around Nick.

They were both asleep within minutes, happy to be home.


End file.
